


The Whimper

by doctor243



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, IronWidow - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tonynat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor243/pseuds/doctor243
Summary: "This is how the world ends, not with a bang, but a..."
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 65





	1. Irony

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda short, but necessary ^^;

Irony was a terrible thing.

The world was in a terrible state. Everyone had lost somebody, the economy had tanked, and the world was basically in a state of confusion and disarray. Questions that no one could answer were flooding the world, like “Why is there no more electricity in my city?”

_Because the people needed to maintain the power plants were snapped away._

“Why is the highway jammed with cars?”

_Because the drivers got snapped away._

“Why are half the buildings in New York razed to the ground?”

_Because there are three airports in the vicinity of Manhattan and half of the pilots flying planes in the air space got snapped away._

“Why is my mother gone?”

_Because…_

Tony looked out the window of the common area, eyes soaking in the dishevelled state of the city. He nursed his glass of whiskey as he watched the dark clouds roll their way into his line of sight.

_Because we failed._

He closed his eyes tightly with a sigh and a lone tear slid down his cheek. A stabbing pain shot through his heart as he remembered Pepper’s smile – tender, teasing and truthful. Then he nearly collapsed when he remembered being told how she had died when a car had smashed into her when the driver had been snapped away. She left only their two year-old Morgan as her legacy, who was now sleeping soundly in bed.

_Because **I** failed. _

“Why is the whiskey gone?”

Tony turned around, hastily wiping the tear from his cheek, finding Natasha glaring at the empty bottles by the liquor cabinet as if they had committed a personal offense against her. He smiled tiredly.

“It was gone before I got here,” he replied, deliberately taking a sip from his glass.

She cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement, smirking as though she was about to come back with a witty comment. But she didn’t. She just looked at him and he could see that underneath her casualness and humour, the same pain and exhaustion that haunted him haunted her too. She felt the same disappointment and resignation that he did, and she had come to the living room for the same reason as him. He stepped towards the liquor cabinet, placing his glass down on a table.

“You know what?” He asked, suddenly. “It’s not even a good time for whiskey. It’s raining – it’s perfect for hot chocolate.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed that fiery look. Her willingness to challenge anyone and anything they said; her refusal to be intimidated by super-intellect and super-strength. In the two years that Cap had whisked away the Rogues and been on the run, Tony had been angry. He had been absolutely livid. But he still knew that their absence left a hole in the fabric of the Avengers, a missing part of its soul. 

“Hot chocolate?” Natasha repeated.

“Yes,” he answered decidedly. “Hot chocolate,” he pulled out a bottle of Irish Cream, “and a pot of gold.”

Natasha smiled in agreement. “I’ll start on the hot chocolate,” she turned to the kitchen.

“No,” Tony said, looking out of the window, where the rain pelted down like bullets from Thanos’ ships and the thunder shouted angrily after the flashes of lightning. “I’ll get the hot chocolate. You build the blanket fort.”

This time both eyebrows were raised at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was rather proud of himself, and he made a mental note to elicit that response from her as often as possible. “A blanket fort?” She asked incredulously. “Tony how many drinks did you have before I got here?”

“I’ve never built a blanket fort before,” he pointedly ignored her, pushing her in the direction of the couches. “Then again, I never did have a childhood or friends growing up.” It wasn’t a statement aimed at garnering sympathy, just a fact.

“And you think I did?” She asked again, almost offended.

“You’ve definitely built more makeshift covers in the wild than I have,” he replied methodically, putting the kettle on and pulling out the cocoa. “Spare blankets in the drawers.”

Nat sighed in resignation as she pulled out the twenty blankets that Tony referred to and got to work. She didn’t think it’d take this much effort just to get a fucking drink.

In the end, she was definitely very proud of herself. She’d utilised the couch cushions and the chairs to produce what seemed more like a blanket _tent_.

“Now _that_ is a masterpiece,” Tony approached with two mugs of steaming Irish Hot Chocolate, clearly impressed. “Let’s do this.”

Once they were inside and comfortably situated, Natasha took a sip and groaned in pleasure. “Holy shit, Stark,” she hastily took another mouthful. “This has got to be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from,” Tony sipped with a smile. “ _I’m_ just impressed you found a lantern to bring in here.”

“You were taking so long I had the time to go to Cap’s storeroom,” she rolled her eyes.

Tony snorted. “Remember when he would go down there and do _weekly_ checks on his field pack? As if we were going to send him into the woods at any moment?”

Natasha laughed fondly. “The stuff in there was from World War II!” She took another sip. “Still acting like he was in boot camp.”

They sat there in their fortress of blankets and memories, taking turns to refill their drinks of comfort, and reminiscing about days gone by. At one point they added vodka-laced whipped cream which, surprisingly, Tony made from scratch.

Time was an obscure construct for them, and at a certain point, when all the bottles ( _how many were there again?_ ) of Bailey’s and all the cocoa had been expanded, Tony closed his eyes and sighed. They were both past the point of inebriation, but hadn’t that been the point?

“Irony is a bitch,” he whispered.

“What’d you mean?” Nat asked. They were both on their backs, staring at the ceiling of sheets and the lantern turned off.

“How long has it been?” he asked quietly.

“Since what?” Natasha mumbled.

“Since you guys killed Thanos?” he answered.

Natasha was silent for a little bit, sobering slightly. “6 months,” she replied finally.

Tony wished to God that he had been there, but he had just returned from Titan with Nebula. He had been too dehydrated, malnourished, and emotionally incapacitated from hearing the news about Pepper’s premature departure.

“Everybody lost somebody,” he finally explained. “It wasn’t just 50 percent of the world. Other people died too in the aftermath.”

“I know,” Natasha turned to look at him.

“Everything’s gone to shit,” he gritted out. “And yet…” he reached to his Arc Reactor and squeezed it, as though it were some kind of comfort. “And yet the irony is, he was right,” he wheezed out.

Natasha sat up. Even in her state, she knew she had to hear this, whether to agree or disagree.

“I lost Peter, Pepper and Happy,” he choked out. “But the world is slowly healing, world governments are putting selfish agendas aside and actually working together, and pollution has gone down exponentially. World peace and world hunger pretty much solved.” His body shook at every word he forced out.

“Tony…” Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder, and as she stared into his tear-filled eyes, she knew he didn’t believe himself. 

“Was the price worth it?” Tony was sobbing at this point. “Was he _actually_ right?”

Natasha sighed and slipped her arms around his head and pulled him into an embrace, which he immediately returned, crying unabashedly. She knew that he knew the answer; he just needed to hear it from someone else.

“Of course not,” she whispered soothingly. “Nothing is worth losing lives for.” Tony sobbed even harder at this. “Not one,” she continued. “And certainly not half of all lives.” He never loosened his grip, and eventually Natasha started humming a song he’d never heard before. “We don’t trade lives, Tony,” she said at one point. They stayed that way for a while, him breathing in her scent while she played with his hair and hummed. He always knew that she’d been the heart of the team, helping to centre the strongest heads and to be the voice of unity. She’d turned the team into a family, and he lost that when she left with Steve.

“Let’s leave New York,” he said suddenly.

Natasha pulled away to look at him in the eyes. “What?” There was that eyebrow of question again.

“Let’s leave this building and go somewhere else,” he looked at her with determination from his red, wet eyes. “I have some property in Georgia, by the lake. And we can build a cabin. You can have your own room, and Morgan can be away from all the carnage in this city.”

“Tony, we have responsibilities to carry out,” she argued.

“Which we will be able to carry out with a change of environment,” he replied. This seemed like a better and better idea with each passing minute. “Cap will stay in New York and we’ll be able to contact our foreign friends when I build the hologram communicators into the cabin. C’mon Nat, I need to take Morgan to a place she doesn’t have to witness pain and suffering on a daily basis, and I can’t watch her alone. I can barely take care of myself.”

She thought about it silently, but the breaking in his voice took the strength out of her denial. The truth was that she needed a change as well, and the constant reminders of failures in her everyday life did not help. She needed time to heal. _They_ needed to heal.

“Okay,” she whispered, returning to hugging him. He pulled her closer in response, clearly satisfied with her answer. Where do you turn when there’s nowhere left to go? What do you do when you’ve lost everything? “Okay,” she repeated.


	2. Sentiments

_“Tony.”_

_The man opened his eyes and spotted Steve, Natasha and Rhodey standing by his door. His hand reached for the remote and he inclined his hospital bed upright while a protective hand held on to his darling Morgan, who’s head was tucked safely into her father’s chest._

_“What happened?” He asked immediately, noticing their uniforms._

_Steve sighed. “We found Thanos.”_

_Tony’s breath hitched and his hand shot to the siderails of his bed. His silence beckoned Steve to continue._

_“We failed Tony.” Tony had guessed that from the depression that was radiating off the trio. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Captain America look so defeated. “We only found him because he’d used the stones again, but he’d used them to destroy them.”_

_Tony’s grip on the siderail grew tighter and he held Morgan tighter to his chest as the young girl started to stir. “And?”_

_“Then Thor killed him,” Natasha finished. Her eyes were wide and frantic, and she almost looked like she couldn’t yet believe the events that had happened in the past twenty-four hours._

_A huge breath escaped Tony as he released the handrail and shakingly stroked Morgan’s hair. The sleepy girl looked up at him. “Da!” she squeaked. “Da!”_

_He gave her a wobbly smile and kissed her forehead. “It’s gonna be ok, Morguna,” but he never figured out if he was trying to convince her, or himself._

_Later that night, when Morgan was sleeping in the cot next to Tony’s bed, he lay awake and stared at the ceiling._

_“Can’t sleep?” he turned his head to the door to find Steve staring at him._

_“Clearly you can’t either,” Tony mused, moving his bed to be upright again._

_Steve chuckled sardonically. “Mind if I chat?”_

_Tony gestured to the chair. “Help yourself.”_

_Steve pulled up the chair, making sure to be as quiet as possible, lest he wake up the only innocent creature in the building. “I know you hate beating around the bush,” he started, hands rubbing together as he placed his words carefully. “So I’ll get straight to the point.”_

_Tony looked at him and pulled off his glasses, eyes piercing into Steve’s. His body might have been weak, but his spirit was still a force to be reckoned with._

_“I’m sorry, Tony.”_

_He raised his eyebrows in surprised, before a wistful smile took over his face and he sighed._

_“I’m sorry about everything that happened in Siberia, and everything before that,” Cap was rambling now. “I’m sorry I never had the courage to tell you about your parents. I’m sorry that our friendship ended that way, and I’m sorry for breaking the team apart. I’m so-”_

_“Cap,” Tony interrupted firmly. “Stop.”_

_“It’s been eating me up, Tony.” Steve ran his hands through his hair in frustration._

_“Cap,” Tony said again. “I’m past that.”_

_Steve looked at him warily. “You were just yelling at me all morning about that.”_

_“Yes I was,” confirmed Tony. “But then we failed again. Peter, Pepper and Morgan were the three most important things in my life. I just lost two of them, and that deserves more of my emotion than the squabble we had a few years ago.”_

_Steve leaned back with a small smile. “A squabble that destroyed an airport huh?”_

_“Eh, we’re superheroes,” Tony dismissed with a wave, before he looked at Steve with a serious eye. “But I know you lost people too, Cap.”_

_Steve nodded, another sigh escaping his lips._

_“Bucky and Sam were good men,” Tony said softly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”_

_“And I, yours,” Steve replied, voice heavy with emotion. “Wanda and Vision are gone too,” he pointed out._

_“That is **both** of our losses,” Tony replied thickly reaching a shaking hand out. _

_Steve immediately accepted the gesture, and they both held on tightly, sitting in a moment of silence, warriors mourning their lost._

_“Let’s respect the dead,” Tony whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek. “And live well, eh? Let’s put this behind us.”_

_“I’d like that,” the Captain replied. “I’d like that a lot.”_

_“And for what it’s worth,” Tony smiled and shook Steve’s hand. “I’ve a lot to apologise for too.”_

Tony sat on the stairs of his porch, sipping at his coffee while Morgan ran about the front yard, gathering the autumn leaves into a pile and then jumping into them. He stood up when he saw a car pulling up his driveway and smiled. 

“Nat!” He yelled into the house. “Look who’s finally here!”

“Unca Steeev!” Morgan yipped as she bundled to the driver’s door.

“Hey kiddo!” Steve grinned as he slid out and picked up Morgan before tossing her in the air, making her squeal in delight.

“Careful Cap,” Tony smirked, walking over. “You break it, you buy it.”

Steve just laughed as he put Morgan down and faced Tony, the two men meeting in an embrace. “It’s good to see you Tony,” Steve sighed.

“You too, Cap.”


	3. Comfort

“Any news?” Natasha took a bite out of a PB&J sandwich. Her hair had grown longer in the past three years, and she now had it in a ponytail.

The older man sighed and shook his head. “There haven’t been any signs of his appearance since the last massacre.” Nat nodded, steeling herself.

“The Chinese Secret Societies?” She asked.

“No, the Italian Mafia,” he looked at her sympathetically. “Nat, if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. You know that,” he said gently. “He’s got the same S.H.I.E.L.D. training as you.”

“I know,” she smiled at him sadly. “But I still have to try.”

The colonel nodded solemnly and reached to end the call.

“Rhodey,” she called out. He paused and looked at her. “Thanks for doing this.”

He just smiled at her and hung up, his image fading into pixels on the hologram projector. She let a small sob escape her lips as she fell back into her chair and brought her hands to her face. The Red Room had taught her how to eradicate any outer indication of emotion, but that never meant that she had none. It was a simple choice of hers whether to display the emotions or to hold them inside. But the Red Room had only prepared her for infiltration and interrogation and assassination and intimidation. Never would she have dreamt of being ready for death on such a large scale caused by beings from other planets, or superpowers that had only been true in fantasy.

“Still can’t find the little birdy?”

Nat’s head whipped around to find Tony leaning against the door frame of the hologram room. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“Oh Natalie,” he sighed, walking over to her while she snorted humourlessly at the name he used. “Come here.” He opened his arms to her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she threw herself into his arms and wept, tears falling shamelessly and arms tight around his middle. The past three years had seen many of their hugs, and many of their tears. They had become each other’s confidant, helping each other to heal, even when the world seemed to have done so swimmingly.

“I need to find him, Tony,” Natasha whispered.

“I know, Nat,” he soothed, his warm hand rubbing circles on her back.

“He was there when I had nobody,” she continued. “He gave me a chance to have a new life, and without him, I never would have been a part of this team.” Her grip tightened on him. “This family.”

“We’ll find him,” Tony promised.

“I need to be there for him,” she cried again, heart aching as she thought about how he must have felt when he lost his wife, his children, and his entire world. And yet, a tiny part of her wondered if she actually wanted to find him. What could she do if they found the archer? She had nothing to offer him that could dampen his pain.

“We’ll be there for him,” Tony whispered once more, and Nat finally smiled as something clicked in her mind.

_We. Us. Family._

* * *

Tony roared, the sound ripping through the entire cabin and breaking the blessed silence of the night. The door to Natasha’s room was flung open and the redhead shot out towards the source of the sound. She ignored the way her heart clenched at the pure sorrow that she heard in his voice. Yet when she ripped his door open, ready to rain down all the wrath and fire that heaven and hell could offer, his voice had reduced to a low wail, and her heart only dropped further. His hands were covering his face, but through the gaps of his fingers, she could see his frantic eyes darting around, as streams of tears leaked down his knuckles.

“Tony,” she whispered, inching forward cautiously.

He didn’t appear to register her voice, but his voice had died down to a soft whimper and an occasional sob. She continued to gently close the distance between them, hands held in plain sight as though she were approaching a wounded wolf. The nearer she got, the more she noticed his shaking body and hiccupped breath.

“Daddy?”

Immediately, Tony snapped out his stupor and looked to the door, where the silhouette of his beloved daughter stood. Natasha turned around as well, unsure whether she should usher the girl out the room or allow her to comfort her father.

“Hey baby,” the mechanic choked out with obvious effort. “What’s going on?”

“I heard yelling,” Morgan mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “’s everything ok?”

“Of course, Morguna,” her father smiled shakily as he trembled out of the bed and opened his arms invitingly. “Daddy just had a nightmare.”

Natasha sighed with a fond smile and ushered the sleepy girl forward. “Give your father a hug and go back to sleep.”

Morgan drowsily wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck and mumbled something incoherent. Nat noted his rattling hands calm a little as he took in a deep whiff of Morgan’s scent and his touch confirmed the reality of the situation. When they finally parted, she gave him a kiss on the cheek before stumbling blindly towards her bedroom. The master assassin followed her out as she gave Tony a look of concern.

“I’ll be back,” she assured him. “I’m just gonna put her to bed.”

Morgan had fallen asleep the minute her head touched the pillow, and Natasha couldn’t have been more grateful that she could hurry back to Tony’s side. She found him in the same spot she’d left him – at the foot of the bed, knees propped up and eyes staring into blank space.

She gingerly took her place next to him and placed her hand over his and waited.

“I was on Titan again,” he whispered after a very long few minutes. “And Peter was disintegrating in my arms. _Again._ ”

Natasha gripped his hand even tighter.

“I couldn’t even preserve his _ashes_ , Natasha,” he grunted. “Not a single one of his atoms.”

Still, Natasha said nothing. What could she say? Any word uttered would be a poor comfort to a broken heart. So instead, she stood up and pulled him into bed. He followed wordlessly, and she pulled up the quilt, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“Hold on tight,” she breathed. “I won’t disappear.”

He didn’t reply, but his arms grew secure. When she woke up in the morning, he was still holding her.

* * *

“…and then I swear, she just caves!”

“Holy crap, Tones I hope you got that on video,” Rhodey laughed, his arms crossed in amusement.

“I wish I did,” Tony mused regretfully.

“What’re you talking about?”

The genius turned around to find Natasha walking into the hologram room.

“Oh nothing,” he teased. “Just how Morgan flashed her puppy eyes at you and you caved to her request for ice cream.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood next to him. “Your daughter is too cute for her own good, Stark.”

“She gets it from her dad,” he smiled before looking at the rest of the participants in the room. “Alright, now that the boss is here, we can begin.” Natasha swatted his arm while Steve laughed and Okeye smirked before beginning her update.

* * *

“Daddy! Can we have cheeseburgers?” Morgan bounced over to her father cheerily with a grin.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he smiled as he picked her up. “We have to ask Aunt Nat. She might want something else.”

“I love cheeseburgers!” she hummed.

“Me too,” he laughed. “So you need to ask her _really_ nicely okay?”

“Okay!” she agreed. “Aunty Nat!” she called when they got into the house.

“Hello, my little munchkin,” Natasha smiled fondly. “What’s going on?”

“Can we have cheeseburgers?” she asked with a grin.

Natasha looked over at Tony’s knowing smile and decided to play. “Hmm I don’t know, sweetie,” she placed a finger on her lips. “I kinda wanted pasta today.”

“Do the eyes, Morguna,” Tony whispered excitedly. “Do the-” Nat’s hand shot out and slapped over his mouth. She didn’t need the little one to know how much power she held with those compelling eyes. Tony’s eyes narrowed while Morgan looked around, confused. Suddenly her hand felt a wet slick and Natasha yanked away with a yelp, a shiver shooting straight up from the base of her spine to her head.

“Oh my god, did you lick me?” she cried out incredulously.

“Did you not expect me to?” he sniffed. Morgan just chortled gleefully while clinging to her father.

Natasha just walked to the sink in disgust. “Ugh, fine, we can have cheeseburgers.” Morgan cheered in victory while Tony watched her, a smug smile on his face. When the father-daughter duo left to procure their dinner, Natasha wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking of his tongue on her hand.

* * *

“Can’t sleep?”

Morgan shook her head as she rubbed her eyes. Natasha just smiled and walked over to pick her up. The adults had been in the living room reading when the little angel had trudged down the stairs, looking frustrated.

“What’s wrong, love?” her father got up as well.

“inon’tknow”

Natasha laughed as she rocked the little girl in her arms. This little bundle of joy that brought her so much peace after so much devastation. “I have a great idea,” she thought out loud.

“Uh-oh,” Tony teased.

“Let’s build a blanket fort!” She suggested, locking eyes with Tony. His eyes widened a little before they filled with warm familiarity.

“And hot chocolate,” he finished with a smile.

“Exactly,” she answered, green eyes sparkling. Morgan giggled in agreement. She liked hot chocolate.

Twenty minutes later found the trio huddled underneath the cover of blankets, the only light coming from the lantern in the fort, and a mug of steaming drink in each of their hands. Tony and Nat, of course, had their additional secret ingredient, while they decided to give Morgan a little less sugar in hers. Nevertheless, she loved it.

“Did I ever tell you the time I met Uncle Steve?” Tony asked his daughter, who shook her head, a moustache of whipped cream decorating her upper lip. Natasha smiled by the side, reaching over to wipe it off. “Well I hated him.”

Morgan gasped in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, before continuing the story and putting a lighter spin to it – he didn’t need a traumatised five-year-old on his hands. By the time he was finished, their mugs were empty, and the child was asleep. He gently stroked her hair and gently placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Alright,” he groaned, climbing out of the tent and picking Morgan up. Natasha slid out as well, picking up the empty mugs and placing a kiss of her own on the girl’s head. She’d grown attached to the sight of Tony’s paternal affections and they must have rubbed off on her. “I’m gonna put the little miss here to bed. You go and get us some refills.” The redhead perked up with a nod, a hint of a smile forming at her lips as she bounded to the kitchen.

When he returned, she was already waiting for him, curled up under another ( _another??)_ blanket with renewed cups. She watched him climb in and join her with a chuckle. This blanket fort was smaller than the one they’d built in the tower, years back, but it was just as comfortable, and possibly even more cosy.

“She’s such an angel,” Natasha sighed contently.

“Yes, she is,” Tony hummed, taking a sip from his mug. His cheeks were starting to get a little pink, but to be fair they’d gone a little strong on the Irish Cream. To be further fairer, Natasha’s cheeks were kind of rosy too.

“You know, I found her grabbing cookies out of the jar and she said they were for you.”

Tony looked up in astonishment. “I never got any cookies,” he gasped, flabbergasted. “How could you let her lie to you like that?”

“Well,” the super-spy answered, finishing her mug. “She has her mother’s smile.”

“She does,” the Mechanic agreed softly, before turning to look at her. “But she has your kindness.”

“Me?” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “There’s so many things wrong with that statement.”

“Why?” Tony challenged, a spark in his eyes. “Because you’re not birth mother?”

“Well that,” Natasha huffed, suddenly exasperated. She didn’t want to have to spell it out for him, even if he was teasing her. “And I mean, ‘kindness’ is not exactly the word most would associate with the Black Widow.”

“That’s true,” he replied with a chuckle. “But I would associate it with ‘Natasha Romanoff’.”

She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow ( ** _there_** _was that dangerous, dangerous eyebrow_ ) and frowned. “Stop kidding,” she warned. She was getting a little upset by how irritating he was being. There was no need to dive into her can of worms.

“You are probably the kindest person I know,” Tony insisted, placing a hand on her wrist. “So kind that you don’t even know it.” She scoffed, but he insisted on continuing. “Who waited until the last possible second to close the wormhole just so that I had a chance of returning to this world?”

“Anyone would-”

“Who was the only one who could calm the hulk down?”

“That’s cuz-”

“Who immediately started relief work when she got back to New York? Who moved five states away to be by a lake just so I wouldn’t be lonely? Who organises meetings across the galaxy so that we’re still connected? Who helps me through my nightmares without a single complaint? Who spent the last three years looking for her best friend? Who still hasn’t given up?”

She finally shut up and broke eye contact, her fiery green eyes burning into the pillows they were lying on.

“Who took care of my daughter when I was stuck in space?” He whispered with a hint of pride, brushing his thumb against her cheek. She looked up at him, a small hint of defiance in her eyes, still unwilling to accept his praise. Was she hearing gratefulness? There was a warmth in his voice that made her suddenly nervous, and she bit her bottom lip. Nervousness was unfamiliar to the Black Widow. She’d sooner swallow the head of the source than allow herself to be seen as flustered. …not really a viable option here.

“Morgan is as much your daughter as she is mine,” Tony said finally. “You’ve raised her alongside me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Her eyes started to sting as tears threatened to spill. Judging by Tony’s glistening eyes, so were his.

“Thank you.”

Natasha closed her eyes and breathed. “You don’t have to-” She froze when she felt his lips on her forehead. His lips, slightly chapped, lingered for a little, before he pulled back. The spot burned as her cheeks did, and her heart threatened to break through her ribcage. She stopped breathing. Why was this happening? Displays of affection were no stranger to her, and she was thoroughly trained in physical manipulation, so there was no reason for her to have such a strong reaction to a damned kiss on the forehead.

The only problem was that this _wasn’t_ a physical action, it was one of the soul. She could feel his sincerity and emotions in that kiss, and the silent message: “you are part of _my_ family…if you’d like.” Tony seemed to sense her shock and pulled back.

“Um…Nat?” He asked cautiously. “Are you-”

It was her turn to interrupt _him._ She reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in as their lips crashed together. She heard him breathe in sharply in surprise, but when she persisted, he melted into her embrace and reciprocated, fingers gently reaching into her hair and tangling themselves into her hair. She groaned as her lips moved against his, the pool of nerves in her belly raging like a bag of beaten snakes, as if she were a teenager again. She barely registered the feeling of spilt hot chocolate on her thighs when she hooked a thigh around Tony’s hips and straddled his waist. His hands roamed the curve of her back while her hands desperately explored every inch of his torso, all the while, the sounds of breathy moans and shifting sheets filled the air.

“Tony,” she gasped when she finally pulled away. She was an absolute sight, her lips swollen, her chest heaving and her cheeks red for a reason other than the alcohol. “Tony,” she repeated.

“Nat,” he answered her, hair messy and panting just as hard, and she soaked in the view, her heart thundering in her ears while her hazy green eyes roamed over his panting chest, the glow of the housing unit from under his shirt, and his piercing eyes, before resting on that infuriating smirk that was still on his lips. Natasha bit her cheek – she had to kiss it away.


	4. Promises

Somehow, they’d managed to maintain their embrace while travelling from the living room of sheets and empty mugs to Tony’s bedroom. Clothes were haphazardly tossed around the room and neither of them knew who was undressing who. Neither of them cared. Natasha’s fingers were desperately tugging at Tony’s hair while his fingers dug into her back, their sloppy kisses loud and frantic.

They’d barely made it to the bed when they were completely naked, and Nat was climbing on top of Tony, holding onto his length with a shaking hand before dropping her hips down. The relief and pleasure that they felt had them both groaning like old wood under pressure (no pun intended). As she furiously thrust her hips against his, her fingers clawed at his chest, while he responded in kind, pulling at her hips while he took in her green eyes with wonder. Those bright green eyes that were now hazy with desire and madness. Even in his drunk state, Tony tried to take in everything; the feeling of her soft bum in his hands, the sight of her bosom bouncing with every beat, and the sound of her voice as she sang her ecstasy.

With a grunt, he slammed her hips down and came hard, his cock throbbing within her with enough force to send her over the edge with a cry. She fell forward onto him, her hair a mess and her soft breasts pressed against his chest, illuminated softly by the Arc Reactor on his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes, barring the hoarse panting and the occasional whispered name. Tony turned his head to look at Natasha, and immediately kissed her. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she had no more time to recover, as Tony had already gotten hard again and was thrusting against her with all his might. She cried out as she felt his teeth land on her neck, his fingers tugging at her taut nipples, all while his pounding never ceased.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur, but by the end of it, she was sobbing into a pillow while Tony took her from behind, one hand fisted in her red locks, the other around her throat. Her hands were filled with sheets, and she was sure that she’d ripped them at one point. When he slammed into her one final time and spilled himself into her, she cried out into the pillow as her hips quivered and her toes curled, before she collapsed and Tony followed, his heavy body gasping over her shaking mess of a body.

* * *

Tony realised quickly how much he had missed kissing. Not just making out, but _every_ sort of kiss. When he opened his eyes to the sunlight streaming in from the windows and onto the beautiful body that lay on top of his, curled up and refusing to let go, his eyes instinctively travelled to her lips. Red. Luscious. Swollen. Oh, how he longed to bite them.

 _Just a quick peck_ , he thought.

But just as he was about to lean in, _her_ eyes opened, and his heart roared. ‘Just a quick peck’ was no longer gonna do. He surged forward, capturing her lips with the fervour of a lover who had been away too long; which was ironic, considering they’d never made love before last night. Natasha, for her part, moaned in delight as she wrapped her arms tighter around his head. His hand roamed down to her bottom and squeezed just as he growled and gently bit her lip.

“Ow,” she giggled as he pulled back and smiled at her fondly.

“Good morning,” he hummed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Did I sleep well? Yes,” she considered. “Did I sleep _long?_ ” She grinned at him teasingly. “No, you goddamn _animal._ ”

He responded by sealing her lips and his hand continued exploring her body, as if there was a spot he’d missed last night.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear.

Her hands froze in his hair and her breath hitched. Her eyes widened and she stopped moving. Immediately sensing her shock, he pulled away, worried.

“Nat?” he whispered slowly, but still she didn’t respond, eyes in alarm.

“Daddy!!”

Within two seconds, he was off the bed and had hastily pulled on his pants. “Hey sweetheart,” he cooed as he opened the door ajar, making sure to block any possible view of the bed. “You’re up early.”

“I want pancakes!” Morgan grinned, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Ok,” Tony smiled in reply. “I’ll get dressed and see you downstairs ok?”

“Ok!” his daughter agreed, before sprinting downstairs to the kitchen. Tony turned around and saw that Nat had sat up, but was not any less alarmed than she had been two minutes ago. He sighed.

“Look, Natasha,” he began his apology. “I-”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, and in a flash, she had slipped out of bed and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Tony let out another defeated sigh before picking up a shirt and slipping it on. Clearly, she needed some time alone. As he trudged downstairs and plastered a smile on his face, his heart felt heavy and he wondered if he had ruined a perfectly good relationship by acting too rashly. In his defence, he thought with a grumble while whipping up the pancake batter, she’d jumped him first. In _her_ defence, _he’d_ kinda insinuated that he wanted to establish that her role in this family was bigger than she would acknowledge. Wait, _her_ defence? She doesn’t get a defence, he’d only said _good_ stuff.

Morgan watched with interest as her father visibly argued with himself, beating the white liquid relentlessly, a frown set upon his face.

“Daddy?” She piped up.

“Yes, honey?” He answered, looking up and finally placing the large bowl on the table.

“What’s going on?”

He looked at her wide eyes and smiled. “I don’t know, kiddo,” he chuckled as he pulled out the frying pan and turned on the fire. “I wish I did.” Chocolate chips? Chocolate chips.

He felt a tugging on his shirt and looked down to see that little Morgan had hopped off her place on the barstool and was now looking at him with her arms open wide. He broke into fond laughter and lifted her into his arms, while she wrapped hers around his neck determinedly.

“Everything will be ok,” she whispered, squeezing harder.

“I know, baby,” he hummed, flipping the pancake with his one free hand. Somehow, he managed to make a whole stack of pancakes with one arm carrying the koala of a child he had, and not a single one was burnt.

By the time Tony had put the empty dishes in the sink and turned on the faucet, there was still no sign of Natasha. So, with a sigh, Tony diligently cleaned up before begrudgingly heading up the stairs to his bedroom. Yet, when he opened the door, he found the room empty, and his bathroom door open. She wasn’t here. He sucked in a deep breath and picked up the mess, resolving to take a shower before looking for her.

Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t in her room, but her room faced the lake, and when he walked over to close her open window, he saw a spot of red and black at the edge of the lake and smiled tiredly. _There you are, Widow._ Five minutes later, he was approaching her from behind, not even _trying_ to be silent. She would know if he was trying to sneak up on her, and if he _happened_ to succeed, he was definitely not coming out of that situation unscathed.

She had her leather jacket on and a clean pair of jeans, but if one looked too closely at her neck or her hastily braided hair, the evidence of their activities the previous night was more than obvious. She stood without a hint of acknowledging his presence, eyes trained forwards while her hands remained in her pocket.

Tony grunted as he sat down on the ground behind her, waiting for her start this conversation. She didn’t speak or move for another twenty minutes, but that was alright, Tony Stark was nothing if not a patient man. That was utter bullshit – his leg was shaking with anxiety and he had all but chewed his fingernails off by the time she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” she whispered.

He sighed, even has his heart ached and he unconsciously reached for his Arc Reactor and squeezed it. “No,” he replied forlornly. “ _I’m_ sorry. I was wrong to say something of that magnitude to you. I understand if you-”

“No!” She exclaimed, head whipping around as she stared at him with red-rimmed eyes. He was taken aback. “No, you don’t understand.”

After getting over his momentary shock, he patted the spot next to him and looked up at her again. “Then tell me,” he answered.

She seemed to think about it for a second before gingerly sitting down beside him. His eyes landed on her bottom and he tried his hardest to push away the memories of her gorgeous rump from the previous night. _There’s a time and place, Tony,_ he counselled himself.

“Many men have told me that they loved me,” she said finally.

 _Well that makes me feel special,_ he thought with a scoff, but when she glared at him, he raised his hands in apology.

“Many men have said that they loved me,” she repeated, slightly irritated. “And I have said it back to them many times.” She looked down and started pulling at the grass. “But I have never meant it.”

Tony watched her fingers tug at the ground anxiously, eyebrows knitted as she tried to pull the words out of her soul like she was extracting teeth.

“Those men loved me, but it was because I made them love me. It was my job to seduce and then be reused. I go into the field, make them fall in love with me and then take whatever I need, no matter the cost, and then I leave. I know how to exploit human emotions, Tony, and after I’m done using them, I break their hearts and disappear.” She looked at him in the eyes and he swore that he could see the broken glass in those green orbs. 

“Do you understand what it’s like to tell a lie so much that you don’t know how to say the truth?” She said, her voice quivering, and he knew that _his_ heart broke right there. “When you said that you loved me, do you know how guilty I felt? My first instinct was that I _made_ you fall in love with me. That somehow I had manipulated you.” Her tears were flowing unabashedly, and it took everything for Tony not to pull her into his arms.

Instead, he placed a hand on her cheek and wiped her tear with her thumb. “My love for you,” he whispered. “Is my choice.”

“I know that,” she choked out, pointing to her head. “I know that in here. But emotions aren’t logical! It felt like I tricked you! It felt like I was being selfish, because-”

She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because I love you too,” she sobbed, and this time, self-control be damned, he reached forward and roughly yanked her into his arms. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.” Her hands pulled at his shirt and his arms tightened around her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered, voice wet with emotion. “I’ve loved you for quite a while too.”

She just dug her head deeper into his chest.

“How could I be sure that I wasn’t _making_ you feel that way?” She replied. “How could I be sure that I wasn’t manipulating you? How could I not feel like I was stealing you from Pepper?”

Tony pulled away with a smile, looking at her with such kindness that she began to sob again. “Oh, my beautiful Widow,” he whispered as though the answer was simple. “As long as your actions come from here,” he tapped her chest, “and not here,” he tapped her temple. “Then I know you’re being truthful, and not manipulating me.”

She looked up at him with her large wet eyes, pleading. “Promise?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Promise you’re being your true self when you’re around me?” he replied.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Tony, I’m bawling my eyes out in front of you.” He laughed, but when he kept his eyebrows raised expectantly, she buried her face into his chest again bashfully. “I promise,” she mumbled.

“Promise you won’t leave me?”

She stilled when she sensed the fragility in his voice, and she deliberately looked into his eyes. “I promise.”

Satisfied, he took in a deep breath. “Then I promise too,” he placed a kiss on her head. “I promise that I love you, not for what you’ve done for me, but for who you are. You are strong, beautiful, and kind. You are loyal, and you will never let me down.”

“Oh my god, Tony,” she raised her head in embarrassment. “Shut the hell up. Hasn’t there been enough crying today?”

He laughed, but leaned down and placed and kiss on her waiting lips, and even as he tasted the salty tears that they’d both shed, his heart bloomed with a sweetness he’d long forgotten about.

“Let’s go make you some pancakes, eh?” he asked.

“Actually,” she smiled sheepishly. “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!! Or pop on over to tumblr at [ @doc243](https://doctor243.tumblr.com/) and hit me up!!


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